


Partners

by panickyintheuk



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Bigotry & Prejudice, Blueberries, Bonding, Bullying, F/M, Family Dinners, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Predator/Prey, Shippy Gen, Speciesism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 09:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16595087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panickyintheuk/pseuds/panickyintheuk
Summary: Judy takes her friend and partner Nick home to visit her family. No, they're not partners like that!While there, she remembers something which troubles her. Nick helps her to figure it out (and hopefully, she'll figure something else out, too).





	Partners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ANGSWIN](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANGSWIN/gifts).



> I really hope you like this, and that you don't mind the background pairing sneaking in! Despite some of the heavy-sounding tags, this fic is not grimdark, but it does reference canonical childhood bullying and speciesism. I hope it didn't drag down the fic too much, because I know you wanted something light.
> 
> 'Har, har' spelled with an 'r' throughout because that's how Ginnifer Goodwin's delightfully dry delivery is subtitled in the film, and I figure that's A Thing for them.
> 
> Many, many thanks to Karios, whose beta skills made this fic much better! Any remaining mistakes and missteps are, of course, mine.

"'Get behind me'," mimicked Nick.

"Shut up."

"You told me to _get behind you_. You do realize that, even when I'm standing behind you, three of my favorite organs are still exposed."

Judy looked him up and down. "Brain, heart and… stomach?"

"Of course. What else?"

"Come on, that's a little much. I come up to your chest, at least. Higher, if you count my ears!"

"I don't see _those_ things stopping any bullets. And that still leaves my _head_ , which is high up on my list of places I specifically don't want to get shot in."

"All right, I'm sorry! I guess, in the heat of the moment, I forgot how much bigger you were."

"You forgot?"

"Yeah! I guess I just always think of us as being about the same size."

"Wow," said Nick , "I'm not sure how to take that."

"You know, size doesn't matter, Nick."

"When you're trying to be a mammal shield for someone who's a head and a half taller than you, it matters, Carrots."

"All right, I get it, I'm a dumb bunny. Any chance of you letting this go in the next, I don't know, seven or eight years?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll do something dumb enough to overshadow this incident sooner than that."

"Har, har," said Judy. "Well, despite the fact that neither of us _actually_ got shot, it's been kind of a stressful day, huh? And you just know Bogo is gleefully drawing up all the paperwork as we speak. Maybe we stop off for coffee before we head back to the station, pick up a box of donuts for Ben?"

"Sounds good to me," said Nick, "assuming we're also getting _another_ box of donuts to eat by ourselves in the car and not share with anyone."

"Hmm," said Judy. "Are we doing that? Yes, yes we are."

*

Judy got the coffee while Nick perused the pastry options. She put both coffee cups down on the counter. "My partner will be here in a second," she lied to the squirrel on the register. Nick always took several minutes to pick out the donuts, despite that fact that he _always_ ended up picking blueberry jelly.

"No rush," said the squirrel, sounding bored; then she did a double take. "Hey, wait, aren't you Judy Hopps? Officer Judy Hopps?"

"That's me," said Judy. Her fame after 'solving' the Night Howlers case had been short-lived — if she'd taken up Bellwether's offer to become the "public face of the ZPD", maybe it would have been prolonged, but she was glad she hadn't, for any number of reasons. Sometimes she did still get recognized, though. It was weird. She'd grown up as part of a large family — not by bunny standards, but compared to pretty much all other mammals — and, although she'd stood out even among her siblings (she was certainly the kit her parents had worried about the most), she wasn't used to a whole lot of attention. Her parents had done their best, of course — she didn't feel neglected — but she'd been used to getting lost in the crowd a little. Zootopia had been a shock, in some ways — huge and alienating, even while it was exciting and beautiful — but the anonymity of living in the big city was less jarring than she might have expected. Throughout school, her teachers had all started out calling her 'Ms. Hopps', because they couldn't tell her apart from her littermate Trudy. They had learned her name pretty quickly, though. Judy had been a good student, but also the kind of student that teachers would sigh at because her paw was always up. She hadn't been unpopular, though. She'd gotten along with nearly everyone except Gideon and Travis, and they had only gotten along with each other.

"You're, like, my hero," said the squirrel.

"Well, thank you!" said Judy. "You want to be a cop?"

"Nah, not really," said the squirrel, "but I'm glad we have you out there, you know? Otherwise us little guys just get trampled all over."

"Well, yeah," said Judy, shrugging one shoulder. It sounded a little too close to what Bellwether had said for her comfort, but at the same time, there was some truth to it—smaller animals did have a harder time getting respect. Even the most powerful mob boss in the city felt the need to call himself 'Mr. Big' and surround himself with polar bears to be taken seriously.

"And listen," added the squirrel in a whisper, "about what you said at that press conference…"

"That was a mistake," said Judy.

"Come on," said the squirrel. "It's just us here. You were saying what we were all thinking."

"No," said Judy, "that's not what I think. Not anymore. I was wrong then."

"Seriously? Or is Lionheart and the rest of those big shots pressuring you to keep quiet? It's obvious they tried to hush up all those predators going savage and came up with that crazy story about some kind of magical flowers. As if anyone believes that."

"Well, they ought to," said Judy. "It's the truth. And I don't know what you think you know about me, but I'm the one who came up with that 'crazy story' about the 'magical flowers', because I'm the one who solved that case and exonerated Lionheart. So maybe I'm not your hero after all."

"I guess not," said the squirrel, wrinkling her nose.

"Hey," said Nick, joining her at the counter and placing the two boxes of donuts on it.

"Hi, Nick," said Judy. Then she turned to the squirrel. " _This_ is my partner," she said pointedly.

"Ew," said the squirrel.

Nick looked between them. "Wow," he said, "great service here."

"Let's just get out of here," said Judy.

"No," said Nick, "I still want my coffee and donuts."

"Fine," said Judy through gritted teeth.

*

Nick drove them back to the station—they hadn't discussed it, but Judy was pretty sure he could tell she was still fuming and didn't want her behind the wheel. Where the hell did that squirrel get off? _Ew_? Because she worked with a fox? What the hell kind of—

Then a thought occurred to her.

"Hey," she said suddenly. "Do you think that squirrel thought I meant partners like _partners_? Like—"

"Does it matter?" asked Nick.

"Well, just, she said 'ew'."

"Right," said Nick.

"I mean, she might not have _liked_ us being patrol partners, but 'ew' is a pretty strong reaction to us working together."

"And if she thought we were a couple, you feel like 'ew' is a more reasonable reaction?"

"No, not reasonable, just—are you mad?"

"I'm not mad, I just don't see how it matters. She's a bigot either way, and she's _wrong_ either way, right?"

"Of course she is! I was just trying to make sense of it in my head, that's all."

"Uh-huh," said Nick, not looking at her.

"Anyway, we need to find a new donut place."

"Guess so."

"Unless I complain to the manager."

"Judy, she's just a kit working a minimum wage job. So she's an idiot—you really want to get her fired?"

"I guess not," muttered Judy, though she wasn't so sure. It didn't feel good, this idea that misinformed mammals thought she was some kind of spokesperson for them—that she really thought those dumb things she'd said at the press conference. She'd thought she'd made up for that, but maybe word hadn't got out. Maybe she should have taken that face-of-the-ZPD gig after all, so she could set the record straight more publicly. She glanced at Nick, who was still staring straight ahead. She wasn't sure how she'd ticked _him_ off. Sometimes it felt like she couldn't do anything right.

"Hey, um," said Judy. "About this weekend. You're still coming, right?"

"Are you sure you want me there?" asked Nick.

"Well, sure! I met _your_ mom, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but my mom lives in the city. It's not a two hundred mile journey to visit her."

"I get it," said Judy. "It's a lot to ask. Don't worry about it."

"Hey, I didn't say I wouldn't. I just don't want to intrude on your time with your family."

"Please intrude! My family's kind of… traditional. I love my brothers and sisters, but almost all of them have started having kids already. Everyone else from my litter has settled down. You'd think that would take the pressure off me, but I think there's still a part of my dad that thinks I'm going to get it out of my system and come back to work on the farm. I'd really like someone there as a buffer." She paused. "And obviously I want you there, as my friend, because I like you."

"But mostly the buffer thing, right?"

" _And_ I want my parents to meet you so they know I'm not all alone and friendless in the big city."

"Whatever, Carrots. I'm just in it for the blueberries."

*

They could have driven to Bunnyburrow, but Judy had wanted to take the train. She still loved the view of all the districts as it sped through Zootopia. For the same reason, she'd insisted they get on at Savannah Central, even though it would be quicker to get the subway to Oasis Hotel in Sahara Square and get on the train from there, rather than making a loop of the city. She didn't want to miss out on seeing it all from the vantage point of the train—and she wanted Nick to see it, too. He'd gotten around by foot, by van, by subway and by sky-tram, but he'd never taken the elevated railway.

When she'd first come here it had all been so new and exciting; now it was familiar, but that didn't make it any less beautiful. She loved it here, despite everything. Maybe it hadn't lived up to her wildest hopes, but maybe that was for the best. The hard parts had helped her to learn and grow, not to mention meet Nick—and what would she do without Nick?

Her favorite part was still going under the sprinklers in the Rainforest District, though Tundratown was probably a close second. She watched Nick carefully to see whether she could tell what _his_ favorite part was.

"Quit staring at me," he said.

"Isn't it beautiful down there, though?"

He smirked at her. "If it's so beautiful down there, why did you bring me up here?"

"Nick!"

"Fine, Carrots, it's very pretty. Now stop nagging me. Everyone on the train is gonna think I'm a wuss."

"I think that's what they call the wisdom of herds."

"How about you can it and let me enjoy the view, huh?"

"See? I knew you were enjoying it."

He gave her a look that told her she was pushing it, so she stopped talking, but she didn't stop sneaking looks at him. Every so often he'd be looking right back, and she'd very quickly snap her eyes back to the view. By now they were in Sahara Square, and Judy was thankful the train carriage had AC. She never liked working there—it was hotter'n _Capsicum chinense_ , as her parents liked to say.

"This is the farthest I've ever been out of the city," said Nick, once they were over the water.

"So what you're saying is, I've traveled more than you," said Judy.

"I guess, technically, you could say that."

"Ah, Nick. I have so much to teach you. I hope you won't be intimidated by how worldly I am."

"I'm regretting this trip already."

Judy tried to think of something witty to say, but suddenly she was worried he might mean it.

"Kidding, Fluff," he said, before she could ask.

"I knew that," she told him.

*

Judy was looking forward to seeing her family again, but as the train approached Bunnyburrow she started to feel nervous. Was she making a mistake, bringing Nick here? Her parents might be more open-minded than they used to be, but old habits died hard. She just hoped that Pop-Pop hadn't got wind of Nick's visit—that would be a _disaster_.

"Listen," she said, "I know you haven't been out of the city before—"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it, world traveler."

"No, I'm just saying, the attitudes in Bunnyburrow might be a little… different than what you're used to."

"I think I can handle it, Hopps."

"Sure, of course. Oh, my parents are definitely gonna mention that they're business partners with a fox, by the way. They're super proud of it."

"Well, who wouldn't be proud of being partners with a fox, am I right?"

"See, this is what I mean about attitudes being different. Outside of the city that's apparently something to brag about."

*

"It sure is nice to finally have you over," said Dad.

"You know," said Mom, "we're business partners with a fox!"

"Mom," said Judy.

"That's very nice, Mrs. Hopps," said Nick politely, sipping at his tea.

"That's right," said Dad. "He makes the most amazing pastries! You have to try one!"

"We actually asked him what we should make for dinner," said Mom. "We're weren't sure what you… uh… ate. We figured probably not vegetables, at least not all the time, so…"

"He gave us a recipe for insect burgers!" said Dad. "That's really something, all right. Wasn't that nice of him?"

"Sure, Dad," said Judy flatly. "Gideon Grey sure is one swell guy."

"I appreciate it, Mr. Hopps," said Nick. "You didn't have to go to all that trouble for me. I don't mind eating vegetables for one weekend."

"Don't be silly!" said Mom. "We want you to feel at home here. Oh, that reminds me, we made up the master bedroom for you. Stu and I will just sleep in the spare dorm."

"So where am I sleeping?" asked Judy.

Mom and Dad looked at each other.

"Well, hon," said Dad, "we're not as stuffy as all that. I know the two of you aren't married, but—"

"Married?!" yelped Judy, looking at Nick in horror. He blinked back at her, face unreadable.

"We're not as old-fashioned as you think, you know," said Mom. "We were young and in love once, too."

"In love?" said Judy faintly.

"We're _still_ in love, of course," said Dad.

"Well, of course, honey!" said Mom. "But it's hard to keep the magic alive after the first dozen or so litters. The two of you are just starting out! You have all of that to look forward to!"

Judy opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"And as for you being a fox, Nick," said Dad, "I can promise you we don't have a problem with that at all. No siree, Bob. We're not prejudiced in this warren, believe you me."

"That's not the issue!" Judy squeaked.

"That's right, Jude. Under this roof, it's not an issue, one little bit."

Nick coughed politely. "I think what Judy is trying to say, Mr. Hopps, is that we're not, ah… we're not romantically involved."

Mom and Dad shared another look.

"Oh," said Dad, "gee. Well, I guess we just assumed…"

"… Seeing as you brought him here to stay…" said Mom.

"What, I can't have friends to stay over?"

"Well, of course you can, honey!"

"I guess we jumped to conclusions a little bit there, huh?" said Dad.

"That's rabbits for you," said Nick. "Always jumping to things."

Judy rolled her eyes while her parents laughed good-naturedly.

"Well then," said Dad, "I guess we'll be sleeping in our room after all."

"I can sleep on the couch," said Nick.

"No, don't be ridiculous," said Judy. "You're a guest. _I'll_ sleep on the couch, you can take the spare dorm."

"Well, cheese and crackers, why don't you both sleep in the spare dorm?" asked Dad. "There are two perfectly good beds in there, all made up."

"That sounds good to me," said Nick.

Judy sighed. The truth was, she really didn't want to share the spare dorm with Nick. What was now the spare dorm happened to be the one that she and her littermates had shared, and there was still a lot of her childhood stuff in there. She felt a little self-conscious about having Nick poking around her stuff. She hadn't felt right about letting him take the couch, but at least if they'd been sleeping in different rooms he'd have had fewer opportunities to tease her mercilessly about it all. But what had she expected when she'd brought him back here? She'd just have to grin and bear it.

"Well, now we've got all that worked out, I guess we'd better take our stuff up there," she said.

*

"Wow," said Nick, nodding at one of Trudy's posters. "The Backstreet Bears, really?"

" _No_ ," said Judy. "That was my sister."

"Oh, sure," said Nick. "A likely story."

"It's true," said Judy, sniffing. "I always preferred the Spice Gorillas."

"Ugh," said Nick, "seriously? Ginger was the only talented one, and she wasn't even a gorilla."

"That is so not true! Anyway, what were they supposed to call themselves, the Spice Gorillas and one Orangutan?"

"Why did it have to be 'spice', anyway? Ginger was also the only spice!"

"I don't know, Slick, band names don't always make sense. What kind of music were _you_ into as a cub?"

"I liked Britpop. Y'know, like Purr and Cloacas."

Judy rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're _so_ much cooler than me, Junior Detective." She sat down on her old bed. "Hey, I'm sorry about my parents."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just, the way they're trying way too hard to convince you they don't have a problem with foxes."

"They're being nice to me, Judy. They're just trying to put me at ease."

Judy wrinkled her nose. "I know," she said, "but they're just so… country about it."

"Oh, yeah," said Nick. "If only we were back in the city, where there's no prejudice _at all_."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"They'll loosen up. It would be nice if you did, too."

Judy folded her arms stubbornly. "You know what really bugs me?"

"I figured it was that your parents were cramping your style and ruining the extremely cool, non-dorky image you usually project."

"Har, har," intoned Judy, rolling her eyes. "No, it's hearing them rave over Gideon Grey! He was _awful_ to us prey kids growing up."

"Huh," said Nick. "Did your parents know about that?"

Judy sighed. "I don't know. Maybe? He's changed. He apologized to me. And I want to be able to forgive him, I really do, but it's not as easy as that. We were just kids, and he made our lives miserable. Him and his stinky friend Travis."

"'Stinky'?" repeated Nick, raising his eyebrows.

"That's what we used to… oh, no," said Judy, covering her mouth with her hand. "He was a black-foot ferret and we called him stinky."

"Huh," said Nick.

"Yeah. I mean. Listen, I'm pretty sure we only started calling him that after he and Gideon started picking on us! I'm like, 99% sure."

"Uh-huh."

"But… that's not an excuse. It's never cool to call a ferret stinky." Judy hung her head.

"Well…" said Nick, but whatever he was about to say, it was cut off by Mom's voice calling up to them that they had guests.

"That'll be more of my family," said Judy. "You up to this?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

Nick put on his most winning (and fakest) smile. "Then sure, I'm looking forward to it!"

*

They got through a fairly raucous dinner with some of the family—Trudy brought her daughter Cotton over, Judy's favorite niece and biggest fan, which was lovely. Uncle Terry and Aunt Violet were there, and so were Judy's other littermates Rudy, Woody and Mike. Pop-Pop, thank goodness, was not. By Hopps standards, it was a small gathering, but she was worried it might be a little too much for Nick—she kept a careful eye on him, but he didn't seem to be too overwhelmed.

It was nice to have a home-cooked meal again; Judy's donuts-and-microwave-carrots diet probably wasn't doing her any favors. Nick was very complimentary about his insect burger, and Judy really hoped he meant it. Everybody seemed to be won over by him, especially little Cotton (who was starting to blossom—she wouldn't be little for much longer).

Judy couldn't help but feel like the odd one out among her brothers and sisters, with their perfect warrens, and their family pictures where they all posed in matching sweaters. She'd always known that wasn't what she wanted, and nobody was making her feel bad about making a different choice, but she knew they didn't understand why a beautiful home and family in Bunnyburrow hadn't been enough for her. All except Cotton, who was so much like Judy it was a little scary (she got the feeling it was even scarier for Trudy).

Cotton dominated the conversation, asking Nick endless questions about the Night Howlers case (she'd heard it all from Judy, of course, but she seemed to want Nick's version of events). Judy noticed that Nick played down the parts where she'd been totally clueless or dumb, and made her sound much more heroic than she really was. He'd probably picked up on Cotton's hero-worship of Judy and didn't want to ruin it. It was sweet of him, but the more he praised Judy, the worse she felt. She kept returning to her revelation in the dorm—what else had she forgotten from back then? Was it possible that Gideon had been provoked? Had she brought everything on herself?

She idly brushed her fingertips across the scars on her cheek—they were still there, just faint and well-hidden underneath her fur. She realized that Nick was looking at her—he seemed concerned. She gave him a weak smile, but her heart wasn't in it. Nick smoothly continued with the story.

"Now this is the part where I come in!" said Uncle Terry.

"How's that?" asked Nick.

"Well now, Terry's the fella who ate a whole _Midnicampum holicithia_ when we were kids," said Dad. "That's how Jude cracked the whole case."

"So you're the famous Terry!" said Nick. Judy was pretty sure she'd never mentioned Terry by name when she'd told Nick what the Night Howlers really were, but that was Nick for you—always a charmer. "Please, let me shake your paw." He reached across the table. Terry chuckled and shook his paw vigorously. Cotton looked as if she could hardly contain her excitement.

"Well," said Mom, "anyone for pie?"

*

After the rest of the family had filtered out and left Judy alone with her parents and Nick, she cleared her throat.

"Mom, Dad," she said, "I was thinking. It might be nice for Nick and me to go pay Gideon a visit. And maybe his friend Travis, too—you remember Travis?"

"Well, sure," said Mom.

"I don't suppose you know where I might find him, do you?"

"Oh, that's easy enough," said Dad. "Gideon and Travis are still baching together, so you can visit them both at the same time!"

"Batching?" asked Nick, around a mouthful of blueberry pie (his second helping).

"Uh, yes," said Judy. "You know, because they're _bachelors_. Who live together. That's what we call… that… out here."

"Ohhh," said Nick. " _I_ see."

"It'll be nice for Nick to spend some time around another fox!" said Dad.

"Dad!" said Judy, horrified.

"What? They can talk fox stuff."

"You know, Gideon made that pie," Mom cut in quickly. Judy wasn't sure if she was trying to stop Dad from saying anything else embarrassing, or trying to stop Judy from yelling at her father in front of company.

"This pie I'm eating?" asked Nick. Mom nodded. "Well, then we definitely have to go. And didn't he give you the recipe for that incredible burger? That one was obviously a team effort."

"He's a real wiz in the kitchen, all right," said Mom.

"Great," said Judy weakly. "Well, I guess we'll head over there tomorrow then, if they're okay with that."

"Sounds good to me," said Nick.

*

"How are you doing over there?" asked Judy.

Nick was lying in Trudy's old bed. From the knees down, his legs were sticking out from the end.

"I'm _so_ comfortable right now," he said, turning on his side and curling into a ball.

"I'm sorry," said Judy, turning on to her side too. "I didn't think. The couch probably would have been worse, if that's any consolation."

"That knowledge changes everything."

"All right," said Judy, rolling her eyes.

"So what was it like, sharing with so many other kits?"

"I don't know," said Judy. "It was just normal. I didn't know any different. The weird part was when I moved out and had a room all to myself. I felt pretty lonely when I first got to Zootopia. I even liked being able to hear the Oryx-Antlersons through the wall. Well, most of the time. How about you? Did you have a big family?"

"Not compared to you," said Nick. "No, I had two brothers, two sisters. My dad died when we were still kits, and my mom never found anybody else, so…"

"Nick, I'm sorry."

Nick pulled the covers around himself more tightly. "It's fine," he said. "It was just… normal."

"Hey, thanks for being so nice to my family."

"Yeah, I had to dig deep."

"No, really. I know my dad can be a little… well, you know. And I love Cotton, but she really doesn't let up with the questions."

"Well, at this point I have a lot of practice dealing with annoying rabbits."

"I withdraw my 'thank you'."

"Hey, I have to get all that meanness out of my system somehow, after a whole three hours of being polite to your family. You know how it goes against my nature."

"Uh-huh. Night, Nick."

"Night, Carrots."

*

The next day, they took Mom and Dad's van to Gideon and Travis's place. Judy took a deep breath before they got out.

"You all right there?" asked Nick.

"I'm okay," said Judy. "It's just… this is gonna be tough."

"Well, you're a tough bunny."

"Yeah," said Judy, blowing out another breath. "Thanks."

"Seriously, Hopps, you'll throw yourself between me and a loaded gun, but _this_ you can't handle?"

"The cop stuff I can do! It's my mouth that has a history of getting me into trouble."

"Look at me," said Nick. Judy did, still blowing out regular, steady breaths. "You're going to be fine. Just speak from the heart."

"That's not exactly the advice you gave me last time," said Judy.

"Yeah, well, look how that turned out."

Judy winced.

"You ended up with _me_ as a partner!" Nick added quickly. "And now everything is great!"

"All right, Slick. Let's get in there before I lose my nerve."

*

Travis opened the door for them — a little begrudgingly, Judy thought, but maybe she was imagining it.

"Hi, Judy," he said. "Gideon's in the kitchen. He's been baking ever since you called. Carrot cake."

She could smell the cake; she could smell Travis, too. He _did_ smell, or perhaps it would be better to say he _had_ a smell—not even an unpleasant one, objectively speaking, but she still felt her hackles rising. Was it bad associations, or something even more primitive? Or maybe it was just Travis's understated version of hospitality that was making her feel uncomfortable.

"That's very kind of him," she said brightly. "We brought you some dandelion wine. Homemade! Uh, by my parents. I don't make wine, I… solve crime. And sometimes rhyme!"

She could _feel_ Nick's disbelieving stare. "Anyway," she said, through gritted teeth, "this is my partner, Nick."

"Pleasure to meet you," said Nick, sticking out his paw.

Travis hesitated before he took it and shook it. "You too," he muttered. "Well, you better come in, I guess."

Judy was starting to wonder if coming here had been such a good idea. It seemed like Travis _hated_ her. Maybe, as much as Gideon had evolved, Travis still hated prey mammals. Or maybe he hated _her_ , because she'd called him names in grade school. Could she blame him? She was still upset about his and Gideon's behavior, after all; maybe it went both ways. _But they started it_ , said a little voice in her head. Except by now, Judy had begun to doubt herself. After all, her parents had been terrified of predators until recently. They had raised her to be terrified, too. As strong-willed as she had always been, surely that had had an effect? Maybe it hadn't been all Gideon and Travis's fault. Maybe she'd been bigoted and brought it all on herself.

*

Travis led them through to the dining room. "The guests are here," he said, voice approaching loud for the first time.

"Aw, hey!" said Gideon, sticking his head out of the kitchen. "There you guys are! The cake's just cooling. I wanted to bake you something special."

"Travis said you were baking! That's so sweet of you. It smells amazing," said Judy, put a little at ease by Gideon's friendliness. "We brought, uh… dandelion wine," she said, gesturing with the bottle she was still holding, since Travis hadn't taken it from her.

"Did your folks make that?" asked Gideon.

"Yeah," said Judy.

"Well, I just love their dandelion wine! That sure is kind of you."

Judy managed not to flinch as Gideon made his way across the room and took the bottle (a big predator approaching her at speed—it made her nervous. She couldn't help it. It probably didn't help that it was Gideon, the only predator who'd ever actually done her any physical harm).

Gideon turned to Nick. "Hello, sir," he said, "we haven't met."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Judy. "I didn't introduce you. This is my partner, Nick Wilde. Nick, Gideon Grey."

"Hi," said Nick. "Nice to meet you. I think this is the first time somebody's called me 'sir' without adding 'do you know how fast you were driving?'."

"Cut it out," said Judy. "You're the one pulling people over these days."

"Oh," said Gideon, "so you're a cop too, huh?"

Judy laughed. "Well, sure," she said. "How else would he be my partner?"

"Well, I figured you were partners the same way Travis and me are partners," said Gideon with a shrug.

"Oh," said Judy. "Oh! No! That's so funny. My parents thought that too. Isn't that such a funny misunderstanding?" She nudged Nick.

"Hilarious," he said dryly.

"I guess I thought, you bringing him to meet your folks and all…"

"Well, we're friends," said Judy. "Good friends, and patrol partners, and that's it. But anyway, you and Travis, huh?"

"Yeah," said Gideon. "You'll have to excuse him. He's a little shy."

It was only now that Judy realized that Travis had left the room at some point. It was pretty impressive that he'd managed to sneak out without her noticing, despite all of her training—or maybe she was off her game.

"Shy?" she echoed. 

"Well, yeah," said Gideon. "Travis always was kind of introverted. You don't remember?"

Judy tried to think back to what Travis had been like at school, but she realized that she had always thought of him as sort of an extension of Gideon. Travis had followed him around like a shadow back then.

"I guess I didn't really get to know you guys all that well," said Judy.

"Well, yeah," said Gideon, looking at his feet. "I don't blame you for that. I'm real glad you came over, because I've been wanting for a long time to make up for what I did…"

"Oh, no!" said Judy. "That's really not necessary. You already apologized."

"Well, yeah, but…"

"And now you've baked me a cake! We can call it even."

"That's mighty big of you."

"I actually did want to talk to Travis about something, though," said Judy. "Would it be all right if I went and found him?"

"I guess," said Gideon, looking a little worried. "He's not in any trouble, is he?"

"Oh my gosh, no! It's nothing like that. It's about… something I remembered from school. He can tell you all about it later if he wants, but it might be better if I talk to him in private, I think. It's nothing to worry about."

"We can just sit here and talk fox stuff," said Nick.

"Now what in the dickens is _fox stuff_?" asked Gideon.

Judy left them to it, confident that Nick would keep Gideon charmed and entertained long enough for her to have the most awkward conversation of all time with Travis.

She crept upstairs. There were only two doors, so after she'd knocked on one and it had swung open to reveal the bathroom, her finely-honed detective skills told her that Travis was probably in the bedroom.

She knocked on the door lightly. "It's me," she called, as a warning.

A few seconds went by, and the door opened. "Hi," said Travis cautiously, peering around it.

"Hi, Travis. I know you were probably hoping to avoid me…"

"No, no," said Travis, "I'm just—"

"It's fine. I get it. It's just that I had something I wanted to say to you, and it's pretty important."

"Well, go ahead," said Travis. She could tell he was as worried as Gideon had been—just putting on a brave face.

"Well, I was having a talk with Nick, and I realized I'd called you some pretty mean names when we were growing up."

"Is that all? I probably deserved it."

"No! Nobody deserves to be called names! Not ones like…"

"Stinky? Yeah, I knew about that. You get used to it."

"You shouldn't have to!"

"Yeah, maybe in a perfect world," shrugged Travis.

"Well, I'm sorry, anyway," said Judy.

"I'm sorry too," said Travis quietly.

Judy had a strong urge to pull him into a hug, but she resisted. She stuck out her paw instead, and Travis shook it.

"Now how about we head downstairs before my partner steals your partner?"

"He better not," said Travis.

"I wouldn't put anything past him. Let's at least get down there before they eat all that cake."

"Good point," said Travis. "Gideon's supposed to be on a diet."

*

The rest of the visit went more smoothly. Gideon's cake was delicious, and complimenting it gave him the opportunity to credit Judy's parents for growing such delicious carrots in the first place, and Nick—who could be counted on to charm the pants off of _almost_ anyone—even managed to get Travis to relax. 

"Do you think it's tough on those guys?" asked Judy on the drive back to Mom and Dad's warren. "You know, being two different species, as well as being…"

" _Bachelors_?"

"Exactly."

"I don't know. Do you think your neighbors have a hard time?"

"Well, but they live in the city. Besides, they're both antelopes. There's less of a culture clash there."

"The city isn't perfect, Hopps."

"I know that! Just, it's more accepting of certain things."

"Your parents seemed pretty accepting when they thought we were a couple," Nick pointed out.

Judy laughed. "Yeah, wasn't that crazy?"

"You know, Carrots, you seem kind of down on Bunnyburrow sometimes, but everyone here has been nothing but nice to me."

"Remind me to introduce you to Pop-Pop next time."

"I'm just saying, I know the city is your home now, and you belong there, but I don't like to see you look down on where you came from. Part of me wishes I'd grown up in a place like this."

"I guess the grass is always greener, huh?"

"I guess so."

*

"Thanks for coming today," said Judy when they were side by side again in their twin beds that night. "I know it wasn't exactly what you signed up for."

"Hey, no problem," said Nick. "The cake alone was worth the trip."

"It was good, wasn't it? I guess Mom was right, he is a wiz in the kitchen."

"Hmm," said Nick; then, in an uncanny impersonation of Judy's father, "say, Jude the Dude?"

"Oh my gosh," said Judy, covering her face with her paws, " _never_ call me that again."

"Your appeal has been noted," said Nick. "Seriously, though, I know you feel bad about what you said to Travis, but it sounds like those guys were pretty rough on you growing up."

"Yeah," said Judy, "I just wish I could let it go. I don't want to end up like Bellwether, all bitter and twisted. I mean, Lionheart was a jerk to her, but it doesn't excuse what she did."

"Are you kidding? You're nothing like Bellwether!"

"I don't know. Maybe I am a little prejudiced against predators. After what I said at the press conference, and now this thing with Travis…"

"Come on, Hopps. So you've made a few mistakes—that doesn't erase the fact that you're one of the best mammals I've ever met. Remember what Gazelle says?

"'My horns don't lie'?"

"Har, har. The point is, you own up to them and make them right. That's more than I could say for a lot of mammals."

"Gideon did."

"Yeah, and he seems like a good guy, _now_ , but that doesn't undo the hurt he caused you. If those kids from the Junior Ranger Scouts showed up on my doorstep tomorrow—well, first of all, I'd be pretty freaked out, but say they suddenly decided they wanted to apologize? I'm not sure I could get over it just like that. Those things that happen to you as a kid, they leave a mark."

If someone had told Judy when she first met Nick that he could be this sweet and sincere, she would never have believed them. She was seeing this side of him more and more, the longer they knew one another.

"It's not such a big deal," she said.

"I don't know. I realized in my first few weeks on the force that I had a bunch of stuff I needed to deal with myself," said Nick. "That's why I've been seeing a therapist."

"Are you serious?"

"Just this once, I am."

"Wow. I'm not going to lie, Nick, that's pretty surprising." Except, now she thought about it, maybe it wasn't. She'd noticed him changing; she'd noticed him using humor as a defense mechanism less and less, and being more honest and supportive. She'd thought it was just that she was getting to know him better (and perhaps she'd even credited herself, a little, for being a good influence), but maybe it was more than that.

"Well, I'm full of surprises," he said.

"That you are."

"I'm just saying, we all have stuff. And if we're going to be out there, protecting the city, we should probably deal with it. But Zootopia wasn't built in a day. I hate to see you being so hard on yourself just because you're not perfect. Besides, when you hold yourself up to such a high standard, what chance do the rest of us have?"

"Nick, stop," said Judy. She covered her face with her ears to hide her blush.

"I'm serious! So many mammals see you as a hero. I just wish you were one of them. I am."

"Come on. I'm just a dumb bunny who got lucky and solved a big case—and I could never have done it without you."

"Well," said Nick, " _that's_ true."

*

They were leaving the next afternoon, and Judy wanted to set aside a little time for Favorite Aunt duties, so she asked Nick if he didn't mind fending for himself for a couple of hours in the morning while she took Cotton to get frozen yogurt. She soon realized she might have been better off inviting him along, because _all_ Cotton wanted to talk about was Nick.

"I want a fox boyfriend when I grow up," she announced.

"He's not my boyfriend," said Judy.

"I didn't say he was," said Cotton. "I just said _I_ want one."

"Oh, really? And what's your mom going to think about that, I wonder?"

Trudy took after their parents a lot more than Judy did. She valued security and home comforts. Judy got the feeling that she didn't know what to do with Cotton, whose nickname was 'Little Judy' because she was so like her wayward aunt. Judy wondered if her sister felt that she was leading Cotton astray somehow. Of course, Judy didn't see anything wrong with being a little different and thinking for yourself, but she did appreciate the fact that she didn't have kits to worry about.

"It's not up to her," said Cotton firmly.

"Well, that's true," said Judy. "And there's certainly nothing wrong with dating a fox if that's what you want, but maybe you shouldn't pick a boyfriend based on species. Maybe you should just wait and see who you end up liking, and date them because you like them, whatever species they are."

"I like Nick," said Cotton.

Judy sighed. This particular discussion was outside of her wheelhouse. Maybe she'd better report to Trudy. Then again, couldn't Cotton have her harmless crush? Maybe it was better for her to have a crush on Nick, who was safely unattainable, than somebody equally inappropriate but closer to home.

"He likes you, though," said Cotton confidently. "I can tell. Why isn't he your boyfriend? Don't you like him back?"

Judy opened her mouth, and it stayed open for a little while before she managed to say anything. "Of course I like him," she said eventually. "We're friends."

"You know that's not what I meant," said Cotton.

"Well…" Judy floundered. "What makes you so sure he likes me, anyway?"

"The way he looks at you," said Cotton, counting off on her fingers. "The way he talks about you. The way he looks at you _while_ he's talking about you—"

"Okay, I get the picture," said Judy. She didn't exactly share Cotton's confidence, but it seemed pointless to argue. "It's complicated. We work together. And he's a fox, and I'm a bunny."

"You just said there was nothing wrong with that!" said Cotton.

"Of course there's nothing wrong with it," said Judy. "It's just… it's complicated!"

"That's just something people say when they can't think of any good reason why not."

"You're turning into a real handful, you know that?"

"I know," said Cotton, and gave her such a guileless grin that Judy couldn't be annoyed.

"You're growing up real fast, Cotton. I feel like I'm missing it! Maybe you could come and visit me in Zootopia some time, if your mom says it's okay."

"Really?"

"Sure!"

"And I can stay with you and Nick?"

Judy rolled her eyes. "You can stay with _me_. Nick lives somewhere else."

"For now," said Cotton.

"Stop that."

Cotton sighed. "I can't wait to grow up so I can move to Zootopia, too."

"Oh, really?" said Judy. She thought about what Nick had said to her the day before. "Well, I love Zootopia, and it's my home now, but there are lots of things about Bunnyburrow that are great, too. Don't forget to appreciate them while you're here."

"Like what?" asked Cotton.

"Like… family," said Judy. She thought a little harder. "Like being part of a tight-knit community, where people care about each other and support each other. It's not perfect, but neither is the city. Sometimes people can slip through the cracks in a big place like that. And even though there are lots of different types of mammals, all living together, it doesn't mean that everyone always gets along. It's a good thing, but it's… complicated. I know you don't like that word, but it's true. Besides, if people like your Nana Bonnie and Pop-Pop Stu didn't live in Bunnyburrow and grow food, what would everybody in Zootopia eat?"

"They don't grow food in Zootopia?"

"Not much! There's not enough room to have that many mammals live there and still have enough land left over to grow lots of food. Zootopia is a wonderful place, but it couldn't exist without Bunnyburrow. And sometimes the people who live there don't think about that."

"Huh," said Cotton. "Well, I still want to move there."

"Maybe you ought to wait until you've visited before you decide for sure."

"You didn't!" Cotton pointed out.

"Well, that's true, but just because I do something doesn't mean you should. I make dumb mistakes all the time."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh. But that's okay. Making mistakes is how you learn."

"Like Gazelle says?"

"Exactly."

*

When Judy dropped Cotton off at Trudy and Manny's warren, she lingered to talk to Trudy, who was balancing a kit from her latest litter on her hip. To her shame, Judy wasn't sure which one it was—maybe she ought to visit more often, or at least spend more time looking at her sister's Instaham (she avoided it, because of the picture it painted of the perfect Bunnyburrow family life that Judy knew her parents secretly wanted for her, too).

"So, Cotton's really growing up."

"Don't even," said Trudy. "She's going through a real bratty phase." That seemed a little harsh, but then Judy only got to see Cotton in small doses right now.

"You want me to take her off your hands?"

"Don't tempt me."

"I'm serious, kind of. I'm sorry if this was out of line, but I said that maybe she could visit me in Zootopia, if you'd let her?"

Trudy made a face. "Do you really have room for her in your apartment?"

It was a fair question. "Well, I'm trying to find somewhere a little… better," said Judy.

"I don't want her on that train all by herself," said Trudy.

"Well, I can come and get her, then! Or Mom and Dad can come with her. They're due for another visit anyway." She paused. "Or you could come."

"I have my hands full here," said Trudy.

"Well, I'm sure we can figure something out. Unless you're just making excuses and you really don't want her to come."

Trudy pursed her lips. "I worry enough about you out there. Especially being a cop."

"The city's really very safe," said Judy. "Most of the time. Savannah Central, at least. Anyway, who better to protect her than a member of the ZPD?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Trudy, if you really don't want her to come then I'll respect that. But I guarantee you she's just going to find some other way to make you worry."

"Yeah," said Trudy. "That's why we call her 'Little Judy'. But I guess there are worse things she could do than take after my favorite sister, huh?"

"Aw, Trud!" Judy reached out for a hug, and Trudy shuffled the kit around so he (or she? Hard to tell at that age) wouldn't be squished.

"It's good to see you," said Trudy. "Don't be a stranger, huh?"

"I'll try to visit more often," said Judy. "I can't promise anything."

"And will you be bringing Nick, next time?" asked Trudy, waggling her eyebrows.

"Not you, too! Why can't people accept that we're friends?"

"You're cute as friends," said Trudy, "but you'd be even cuter as a couple."

"You ever think stuff like that is why I don't visit more often?"

Trudy used her free hand—the one not supporting a kit—to mime buttoning her lip.

Judy kissed her on the cheek, then did the same to the kit. "Speaking of Nick, I should go. I left him to his own devices, I dread to think what he's got up to."

"Oh yeah, that totally sounds like something _just a friend_ would say," said Trudy.

Judy didn't dignify that with an answer, but she did think about it all the way back to her parents' warren.

*

Mom and Dad put them on the train with a care package full of blueberry jam and carrot sticks and pickled cabbage from Uncle Terry, and waved them off.

"Your parents are kind of great," said Nick.

"They have their moments," agreed Judy.

"I had a little chat with your dad earlier today, while you were hanging out with Cotton."

"Oh, really? I'm not sure I like the sounds of that. You didn't run a con on him, did you?"

"You wound me. I'm a changed mammal."

"Uh-huh. So?"

"He said that last summer when you came back, you'd been… droopy."

"Well, yeah. I hadn't solved the case, I'd quit the force, I'd ticked you off…"

"He also told me how glad he was to see you looking happier. I just thought you might like to know, seeing as you thought he wanted you to come back and settle down on the farm."

"He's a worrier. He wants all his kits safe and sound, where he can keep an eye on them."

"Well, I think he's realized that Bunnyburrow isn't big enough for you. He just wants you to be happy, and he thinks you are. You are, right?"

"Sure, I'm happy. I've got the job I always dreamed of having. I'm finally getting decent assignments. And my partner's okay, I guess."

Nick laughed. "Yeah," he said. "Are you getting a little tired of having to explain to everyone that we're not partners _like that_?"

"More than a little."

"You know what I think would help?"

"What?"

"I'm just putting this out there, but you know, if we actually _were_ partners like that, it would be a moot point."

"Well, sure," said Judy. "If we were a couple, there'd be no problem."

"Right," said Nick with a nod. "Then we're agreed."

"Wait, what?"

"Problem solved."

"Nick, what are you saying?"

Nick glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "You're a smart bunny," he said. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

**Author's Note:**

> Other bands Trudy was into include Beast 17 and Take Cat.


End file.
